


In Dreams

by inkstiel (Theconsultingdetective)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, References to bondage, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theconsultingdetective/pseuds/inkstiel
Summary: When Dean has a nightmare, Castiel knows just how to console his worried mind.





	In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jld71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/gifts).



Dean sat, bloody and beaten, tied to the chair. He'd pray if he thought it would do any good. He wasn't sure where he was, he just hoped that Cas and Sam were safe. A man he hadn’t seen in years--no, not a man, a demon--paced around him, mocking him and his weakness and his desperation in a grating lisp. His fingernails dug into the soft wood of the old chair, his breathing shallow, his head hung.

He thought he heard Cas’ voice; a faint echo, calling his name, that seemed to come from inside his own head. _Dean. Dean._

The demon picked up a pair of pliers from a tray of tools.

_Dean._

He stepped over to Dean, taking his chin in one hand and forcing his head to lift. Dean bared his teeth and tried to pull away, as if he had any more fight left in him.

_Dean._

Saying something Dean couldn’t quite hear, the pliers got closer, closer. The demon squeezed his jaw, trying to get his mouth to open, but he closed his lips tight and grit his teeth--

“Dean.”

It all faded away--the ache of his body, the demon, the seizing fear in Dean’s stomach, until only the voice of the angel was left, only now, it was coming from beside him, in his bed.

“Dean, are you okay? You were having a nightmare; I felt I had to wake you.” Cas propped himself up on one arm, one hand on Dean’s bare shoulder, mirroring the handprint that remained on his other side.

“I’m fine,” Dean said, nodding as he returned to himself. “Way better now. Thanks for--ya know. You were just in time.”

Cas smiled gently, brushing a stray lock of hair from Dean’s eyes. “Of course,” he agreed. “I had been trying for a while--you’re quite a heavy sleeper.”

With a guilty chuckle, Dean shrugged. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas assured. “I’m just glad you’re alright. If you don’t mind--what were you dreaming about?” Cas’ face is so sincere, Dean’s almost tempted to be honest.

“You know,” he says instead. “Standard stress deam. Naked in front of a crowd, chased by dogs, teeth fallin’ out. Nothing new.”

Cas hummed, seemingly fooled. “Would you like to go back to sleep?”

“...What’re my options?” Dean smirked, reaching up a hand to rest on the back of Cas’ neck. They’ve been together long enough to know each others’ bodies like a second language, so Cas knows what that touch to the back of the neck means.

“Don’t be coy,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. Dean’s smirk shape-shifted into a grin, and kissed him back, pulling Cas closer, pulling them body to body. Dean’s room in the bunker had always been cold; having Cas beside him, though, could make even the coldest, most hostile place feel warm and comfortable, even moreso when they were like this.

“You know,” Dean mumbled against his mouth, “I hate nightmares, but if I get this once I wake up…”

Cas laughed. “You can get this whenever you want."

The nightmare wasn’t even on his mind any more--he spread his legs, completely shameless, completely at ease.

In the early days of their couplehood, he was embarrassed, embarrassed by most everything. He was embarrassed by the fact that kissing Cas was better than kissing any woman he’d ever met. He was embarrassed by what he liked in bed. The only thing that didn’t embarrass him was Cas, himself. He didn’t think the angel was perfect--not by any stretch. He could be hotheaded, too serious, tempermental at his worst. But at his best, the majority of the time, he was amazing. Smart, kind, gentle-hearted and brave, not to mention patient. When they were in public together, and Cas took his hand or kissed him on his cheek before a hunt, he didn’t feel anything but pride (and maybe a little flutter in his chest, that he kept to himself).

Now, though, nothing could shake his confidence in his relationship. He loved Cas--he was head over heels for him, even if he couldn’t say it yet. And better still, he trusted him, to the ends of the earth. Trusted him not to judge him, not when he struggled to explain his emotions or when he teared up during Star Wars, when the dedication to Carrie Fisher appeared on the screen, not even when he brought home a pair of handcuffs nicked from a police station.

So when he spread his legs, his blush wasn’t from anything but pure excitement, and when Cas climbed between them, the flutter in his chest came only from the love he felt for his angel.

“Dean,” Cas chuckled, bringing Dean back to reality for the second time that night, although these thoughts were totally different from the other ones that had filled his mind earlier. “Where is your mind?”

Dean shook his head. “Only good thoughts this time, angel,” he smiled, leaning into Cas’ hand when it cupped his cheek.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He kissed him again, then dipped his head, nudging his nose at the place where Dean’s neck met his broad shoulders. “May I keep your mind off your dream for a bit longer?” Cas asked, lips brushing Dean’s tan, freckle-dotted skin.

Dean could never turn an offer like that down.

“Well, if you insist,” he laughed, and Cas, without missing a single beat, latched his lips onto his neck and left blossoming bruises in their wake. Dean slid his hand into Cas’ hair, scratching his fingers along his scalp in silent encouragement, letting his eyes close as Cas’ hands ran up and down his sides in a way that was supposed to be soothing, but that only made his blood run south faster.

He knew, though, that Cas wasn’t going to make him wait; not that night. He could always tell when his angel was in a vindictive mood, and this wasn’t one of those times. That night, all Cas wanted was to soothe Dean, to make him feel only good things, to relax him. And as good and fun as teasing and games could sometimes be, all Dean wanted was to feel Cas close, in the most intimate, real way he could.

Cas’ hands fell out of their rhythm of dragging up and down his sides, skirting towards the middle of his body, between his open legs. Shameless, Dean canted his hips up, a smile on his face and eager thoughts in his head.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Cas kidded. “Otherwise, you’d be in a world of trouble for just doing that.”

“You’re a benevolent god,” Dean agreed, running his hand down Cas’ back. “With an impatient boyfriend.

That coaxed a laugh out of Cas, perhaps because of how true it sometimes was, but he caved anyway, wrapping his hand around Dean and getting a relieved sigh in return.

Dean wasn’t interested in waiting, either.

Returning his lips to Dean’s mouth, slowly but surely, Cas’ hand began to move. Dean was content to just sit back and enjoy; he let the feeling wash over him in beautiful, warm, sweet waves, a smile on his lips, soft, happy noises coming from the back of his throat.

Before long, the waves crested and broke as Dean pushed his hips up and Cas sighed into his skin like he was the one being touched, not the other way around. His orgasm came in easy stages, like beats of a heart, until he was boneless and relaxed into the mattress like he’d been before the nightmare had wracked his brain. Cas grinned, cuddling up to his side.

“Feeling better?”

Dean’s eyes, once closed, slipped open. “Much,” he agreed, turning to face him, reaching out to kiss him again. “Don’t you wanna...you know.”

“The only satisfaction I need is seeing you smile like that,” Cas murmured, the smile on his face beatific.

Dean rolled his eyes, bashful. “We’ll say I owe you one,” he said. Cas kissed his cheek again, then started to shift away; Dean’s heart palpitated. Even though they’d been together for a while, a nasty, cruel part of Dean’s brain kept insisting that it wouldn’t last; he knew better than to believe it, but nonetheless, it was difficult to silence, and every time Cas moved away from him the fear returned.

“I’m going to get a warm washcloth for you,” he told him, as though reading his mind. “I’ll be right back, alright? Is there anything else you need?”

“Just you,” Dean said, shifting to sit up against his pillows. The only bad thing about sharing a bed with Cas was the frequency with which they had to wash their sheets--other than that, Dean struggled to find downsides.

Cas rolled his eyes. “I appreciate that, Romeo. Just a minute.” He stepped outside, and Dean sighed contentedly, beaming at his back.

When Cas returned--insisting on doing the cleaning up himself, going so far as to bat Dean’s hands away when he reached down to take the warm, damp cloth from him--he stopped Dean before they dozed off.

“Beloved,” he said, a nickname Dean at first couldn’t get used to, and now couldn’t get enough of, “you know you can tell me absolutely anything, right? If you want to talk about your nightmare--”

Dean nodded. “I know, angel,” he smiled, sincere. “And I love that about you. But it’s out of my mind--really. I can hardly remember it.”

“You’re certain?”

“I’m certain.”

Cas nodded.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll be right here. Should it return, and you need another distraction.”

Dean’s laugh was real, and warm. He kissed Cas’ cheek, pressing himself up against him, the two of them touching shoulder to toe. “It couldn’t hurt,” he grinned, then, his body and mind and spirit finally relaxed, drifted off into a dreamless, steady sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy your fic! I did my best to add in everything in your request; hurt/comfort, fluff, and even a little mature content. Happy holidays, and happy new year!


End file.
